Four Leaf Clover
by starscriptmage
Summary: She doesn't quite know when she realizes she's in love with Midorima Shintarou. In which Takao Kazuna has (several) moments of clarity. Mido/fem!Taka


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 _four leaf clover_

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She doesn't quite know when she realizes she's in love with Midorima Shintarou.

The thought crosses her mind during practice one day, after she passes the ball to him. As it leaves her hands, all she can see is his hair flying, his eyes narrowed in concentration, and his hands reaching for the ball. The afternoon sun, filtering in from the door, illuminates the angles of his face, and it hits Kazuna hard in the gut.

It makes her so surprised that she accidentally passes the ball right into Midorima's face.

Moments later she finds herself blinking under the angry tirade pouring out of his mouth. The entire team is either sighing, laughing, or trying not to be seen by the fuming long-distance shooter.

Takao only tilts her head, noting the cracked glass on the ground, and says:

"Well, you look hotter without 'em."

(But she doesn't say it out loud.)

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The second time she realizes it is after he realizes he's out of tape. It's after a particularly tiring game, and everyone is completely worn out - heck, even Kazuna herself is struggling to keep the smile on her face. The condition of his fingers should be the least of her worries right now. But Shin-chan's frowning, and his fingers are tapeless, and she can't help but reach into her bag and pull out another roll for him.

It's just a routine, Kazuna tells herself as she tosses the tape to him. A habit. A- An act of friendship.

She sees his grateful smile as he catches it, and curses her heart when it starts to skip erratically in her chest.

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The third time, she's reaching for a book, fuming inwardly about all the genetics in her family line. Heck, she's about average to medium-tall size for a girl, but really, she can't reach the top row of the shelf even when on a stepstool. Seriously, she wishes at times like these she was as tall as -

Speak of the devil. Kazuna smirks as a large shadow suddenly looms over her, long fingers reaching for the book.

"This one?" says Midorima.

Kazuna looks up, her neck straining, and sees his oh-so serious face, and her stupid heart betrays her again.

"What?" says Midorima. "You're looking at me funny."

"Nothing," she says.

(But of course, it isn't.)

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She loses count after that, because it doesn't happen once in a while anymore. It's every single day, every single hour, whenever she sees him.

The glint of his glasses. The tap of his shoes. The annoyed frown on his face.

She sees them and thinks, _I'm in love._

She sees them and thinks, _Are boys supposed to be this pretty?_

She sees him and he sees her, and the team sees them, and Kazuna vaguely wonders if she would ask what he thinks of her.

But she catches herself at the last moment and continues.

The answer's probably what she thinks it is, anyways.

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She doesn't expect to get anything for her birthday. Naturally she didn't mention it to anyone before, but this - this is definitely something.

"It's your lucky item for today," Midorima informs her.

"Thanks, Shin-chan," she says, surprised. "But seriously, a frog toy? And it looks exactly like Kerosuke!"

A pause. Her face brightens as she realizes something very important -

"They _match_ ," Kazuna sings out, making Otsubo and Miyaji look over.

"SHUT UP," roars Midorima.

"Well, they do," she says, grinning. "That's adorable, Shin-chan, I always knew you were a tsundere! How _terribly_ sweet!"

He stomps away, muttering obscene threats under his breath, but to the upperclassmen and her amusement, there is a flaming red flush covering his cheeks.

Kazuna names it Kerosuke the Second.

Midorima doesn't mention lucky items for a week.

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Sometimes, when they're bored, Kazuna plays a game with the upperclassmen. She doesn't really have a name for it, but the gist of it is to get Midorima as annoyed as fast as possible.

"Nine point three seconds," she says triumphantly one day. "I'm trying to find one-liners that'll get him _real_ angry, but I've run out of ideas."

"What are you talking about?" Shin-chan says as he enters the gym. "I only heard nine point three seconds. What does nine point three seconds imply?"

"My new record."

"For what?" says Midorima.

"Nine point three seconds from when I accidentally stepped on Kerosuke and cracked him like an egg," she tells him, and bellows of, "TAKAO, COME BACK HERE," echo through the entire school as she sprints as hard as she can to evade the furious Midorima.

"Four seconds!" she calls as she passes the upperclassmen for the second time. "Record!"

Otsubo can only put his fingers on his throbbing temples and wonder what the team will become when the third-years are gone.

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One day she sees a pretty first year girl - long, sleek hair, shimmering eyes, an impressive figure, clear skin, a dainty smile - come up to Midorima with a letter.

It doesn't take much thinking to figure out what's in the envelope.

Midorima treats her politely, like the gentleman he is, and they go out to the back to talk, the girl smiling shyly all the while.

It's not the first time this has happened, but for some reason, her blood's gone cold.

Kazuna looks down at herself, putting her water bottle to the side.

Short, unevenly choppy hair. Narrow eyes. A figure more masculine than feminine. Bruises and calluses all over her arms and legs. A smile that's more _smirk_ than sweet.

I see, she thinks distantly. I see now.

"Oi, Takao - " Miyaji begins.

"Don't mind if I skip for the day," she says cheerfully. "See you."

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Upon arriving home, she kicks off her shoes and buries her head into her pillow.

She doesn't cry.

She doesn't.

Really, she doesn't.

But even Kimura-senpai is smart enough not to ask when she shows up the next day with red rings around her eyes.

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When they lose against Rakuzan, _that's_ when she really cries. She cries loud enough for the whole team to hear, hard enough to make her breath rattle in her throat, long enough to make her eyes bloodshot. When she finally looks up, _he_ 's crying too.

His vibrant green eyes that narrow and widen at her antics. His hands that are always strong and steady. His face that remains serious and contemplative.

They're all breaking apart.

 _Midorima Shintarou_ is crying.

And it shocks her so much that she freezes.

So much that Kazuna stares at his face, her mouth open. So much that her own mouth begins to tremble. So much that she slaps his cheek as hard as her tired muscles can permit.

"Takao?!" everyone choruses, and she promptly burst into tears again.

It's a bit too embarrassing to say that she thinks Shin-chan's cuter when he isn't crying.

(So she says nothing.)

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When they pedal home that night, Kazuna's legs have already turned to lead, but she pedals on, tears dribbling silently down her face. Midorima is uncharacteristically silent at the back of the cart. She rubs at her eyes violently with her sleeve, sniffing, and a large hand touches her arm.

"Don't cover your eyes when you're driving," Midorima says, but without much annoyance. Instead, his voice is tired.

Of course it's tired, she thinks. Everyone's tired. We're completely spent. We've got no more energy left.

He presses something to her arm, and Kazuna looks down.

It's a handkerchief.

Kazuna stops pedaling and climbs out of the seat. She collapses, shaking, into the cart, completely out of stamina. Without thinking, she throws herself at Midorima, wrapping her arms around Shin-chan's waist, and squeezes.

Midorima goes rigid and Kazuna screams at herself. What is she _doing_? He'll never talk to her again!

Utterly shocked at her behaviour, her grip on him loosens. She's got to think up an apology - an explanation -

Midorima's long arms pull her back, his hands against her shoulders. He's trembling as much as she is, Kazuna realizes. His chin is resting on top of her and there's something wet and warm dripping onto her head. He's warm, and comforting, and it hurts him as much as it hurts her.

And that is when Kazuna completely loses control.

She screams into his shirt; loud, hoarse screams that pierce the still night air. Her hands curl into fists and she can't stand it, because they did their best, they gave it their all, and _they were so close_ -

"I know," Midorima says.

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She's made up her mind already, so there's no point in changing it.

"Midorima," she says, surprising everyone. "I need to talk to you a minute."

"What?" he says, pausing right before the ball leaves his fingers.

("Is today Valent - " begins Otsubo.

"Be quiet," Miyaji says cheerfully, "Or I'll throw a pineapple at you.")

"Here," Takao says, rummaging around in her pocket and throwing him the chocolate she made the day before.

He catches it at the last moment, blinking in surprise.

"It's your lucky item," she says, turning back.

"It can't be, my lucky item today was - "

He stops, and it dawns on him.

Kazuna finds it almost amusing to watch Midorima. His eyes widen, his jaw goes slack, his face gradually shifts to crimson.

He opens his mouth once or twice, swallows, tries again, and gives up.

"You… I… what?" he says.

"How terribly eloquent," Kazuna says. "If that isn't clear enough, I can make a speech on my affection. Or not," she adds, when his face turns even redder.

"So you do like him," Kimura says, nodding sagely. "I thought so."

"You do?" Miyaji looks almost _gleeful_. If it weren't for the respect Kazuna has for his skill in basketball, she would've smacked him right in the face.

"Yes, I do," she says, grinning. "Is that a problem?"

(No, it isn't.)

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A month later, on White Day, Midorima comes to her stuttering and stammering and adjusting his glasses in that adorable way he always does, and Kazuna's head feels like it's going to burst.

At some point, Midorima starts to blabber about astrological signs and blood types and incompatibility and all sorts of other nonsense, and Kazuna rolls her eyes.

"I don't know about you," she tells Midorima, "but right now, I couldn't care less about incompatibility."

"Takao - " he begins to mutter.

Takao's entire face is burning right up to her ears, but she can't stop grinning.

"It's Kazuna," she says.

"K-K-K-Kazuna," he mumbles.

"Someone get me a pineapple," Miyaji grins. "And I _will_ throw it at you two if you don't get married _at this very moment._ "

"Miyaji-senpai," Kazuna says drily, "with all due respect, you completely ruined the moment."

"It was a moment?" is the reply.

"On the other hand," she continues, "rest assured. You _will_ receive a wedding invitation."

And when Midorima roars at her, beet-red to the very roots of his hair, Kazuna can only cackle with laughter and wonder if life could get any better.

(It can't.)

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Liking Midorima is one thing.

Dating Midorima is another.

"Hello there, hot stuff," she calls as she enters the gym.

Miyaji and Otsubo snigger as Midorima misses his shot, fumbling.

"Kazuna," he begins.

"Yes, Shintarou?" she says innocently.

Midorima attempts another shot and misses again.

Scowling, he pushes his glasses up his nose and Kazuna smirks.

"What?" she says.

And suddenly, Midorima's next to her, and there's something warm and soft on her cheek, and the upperclassmen are whistling and cheering, and Kazuna can only think, _I think I'm in love._

(And -

\- of course -

she is.)


End file.
